


Vhenan

by Dark_Blossom95



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Master/Pet, Multi, Romance, Strong Female Characters, Strong Language, Violent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:40:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27212821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Blossom95/pseuds/Dark_Blossom95
Summary: Daimhin had spent over a century as a loyal servant of the Lord of House Nailio, tending to her duties around the manor without question... That is until she met the Lord's champion, Rok'Thar, the brutish half-orc who reigned supreme in the gladiatorial arena with a reputation among the serving girls. Drawn to one another, they begin to share many nights.As the season changes, favor shifts in the barracks of House of Nailio, and the pair decide to finally break free.
Relationships: Original Elf Character(s)/Original Orc Character(s)





	1. Out Of The Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of simplicity and innocence. Her clan brought to the sword and burned to ash, after centuries of wandering the lands the Moonbeam clan has finally met its end.

Life had always been laborious for the Moonbeam clan, from a tender age the younglings were taught and expected to contribute to the welfare of the people. The clan lived a nomadic life, wandering the lands and settling for short periods of time before packing up to move along once more. Legend states that the Moonbeam clan once came from a great city, that the forefathers of the forefathers of the elders had taken a legion on a quest. Whatever the people had been looking for has long been forgotten…  
It is common knowledge that the elven people live ancient lives, however the oldest among the Moonbeam people are only a couple hundred years. Traveling the lands has cost the clan much, many of their numbers are lost to various dangers; Natural disasters, hostile terrain, vicious wildlife, disease and illness…

Their numbers were less than eighty strong now, most only reaching their ninetieth year. The elder of the clan, Vathikki in his two hundred and sixtieth year lead them with much wisdom. Many of the people were dedicated hunters, they’d scout around spending days tracking what prey they could to bring back. The few whom not had the strength to defend nor the stamina to track on the hunt were dedicated healers, they’d spend much of their days tending to the younglings and making medicines. Children who were old enough would begin to learn the trades of the people, how to track, forage, sew, skin and prepare the kills. Many of the children would aid in tanning leather and drying skins or pelts to make various goods to meet the needs of the clan. With time the training to use weapons to hunt and defend the people would begin. Nights would be spent sharing the stories and legends that had been passed down through the ages, as the clan elder sat before the fire the children would be enthralled with many tales…

Daimhin had already experienced loss from the most tender of age…  
Her mother, Ierynrae had become ill by Daimhin’s third year and her condition had steadily grown worse. Ierynrae had been bedridden, hardly able to fend for herself let alone care for her own daughter…  
When the clan would begin to travel, she would be wheeled along in one of the few carriages the people had. The healers had done all that they could, harvesting various medicinal plants and making any medicine they believed would help. Tending to Ierynrae so often, the healers had spent much time with Daimhin and would let her follow them around as they harvested plants or brewed medicine. After fighting for three years Ierynrae had succumbed to her illness, leaving Daimhin to be cared for by her father. Kaalon had gone into mourning at the loss of his life partner, but he knew he’d need to be strong for their daughter. Though he loved his daughter deeply, he was harder on her than any other youngling he’d taught. He wanted her to be strong and self-sufficient, a real contributor to the people.

Upon reaching her eleventh year, the clan had settled into an open valley for the time being. Vathikki was rather concerned with the foreign terrain, but it was the largest spot near the river. The clan had begun to set up their camp, pitching their tents, digging out firepits and breaking out the rations. Slowly days passed as the wood elven clan became familiarized with their new surroundings, the hunting party scouting around for prey. The younglings were running around, playing a game to pass the time as the people went about their usual duties. It had been like any other day…

Daimhin was with her group, training with their bows like most days. Targets had been stuck and hung around the edge of the woods, Kaalon was instructing them about wind direction and how to use it to their advantage.  
“The wind carries our arrows; You must learn to adjust your aim based on it’s will. The wind is not always on our side.” He told his troop. Hard blues glaring down as he paced the line of young archers.

Licking a finger and holding it up, Daimhin closed her eyes feeling the breeze. Opening her eyes, she drew her bow and nocked back an arrow. Taking aim, she adjusted carefully before releasing her arrow. Each of the group had followed suit, taking aim and firing their arrows at the targets scattered around.  
“Again.” Kaalon instructed as he stood behind his pupils.  
Nocking back another arrow the group readied to shoot at the targets, loosing their arrows they watched as a few found their marks. Kaalon was going to give another order but he froze, hearing a sudden commotion of cries coming from the camp. Drawing his bow, he turned toward his pupils.  
“Lesson is over for now, go find the elder and round up the younglings.” He ordered before bolting toward the commotion.

After a beat, the young archers ran toward the camp and began to try and find the elder in the growing chaos. The clashing of metal rang out as strange men in uniform brought their people to the sword. Smoke had enveloped the camp as the carriages and tents were set ablaze, the once clear blue sky darkened with the billows of black. Panting Daimhin slowly turned around, taking in her surroundings as a fury she’d never known fell upon her people. Turning to a woman shrieking and begging, Daimhin watched a man punch one of the healers as he was trying to force her to the ground. Daimhin nocked back an arrow and aimed at the strange man, slowly exhaling she released her arrow. The man let out a cry as the arrow pierced his thigh, he threw the woman to the ground and turned toward the girl.  
“You’re going to pay for that.” He snarled as he drew his sword and began to limp toward her.

Drawing another arrow, Daimhin tried to glare at the man but a deep fear within her told her to run. Swallowing she slowly exhaled before loosing another arrow, this time grazing the man’s shoulder. He let out a furious roar and she took a step back. Trembling she drew another arrow as the man continued to close the distance between them.  
“Run!” The woman who’d been thrown to the ground screamed.  
Looking up Daimhin saw the woman as she ran to the man, throwing herself against him she caught his leg and stabbed a small dagger into his calve.  
“Run child!” She shrieked as she clung to the man’s leg and stabbed him another time.  
Yelling out in pain the man turned and brought his boot down onto the woman, “You, fucking bitch!” He snarled as he raised his blade and stabbed down.

Daimhin staggered back and slowly turned to run. Her vision blurred with tears as she weaved through the terror, a large weight had settled into the pit of her stomach and she felt sick. Screams filled the smoky air as Daimhin tried to find somewhere safe, tripping over something Daimhin hit the ground hard. Her slender fingers clutching the grass as she pushed herself up, her face dirtied with tears and ash. Looking to see what she’d tripped over she covered her mouth to muffle her cries, laying in a bloodied heap is Vathikki…  
Crawling back, she pushed her back against one of the crates used to store supplies, pulling her knees to her chest and sobs. Her green eyes glued to the dead elder, her shoulders violently shaking as the weight in her stomach grew heavier. 

“Hello what have we got here?” A rough voice asked as large hand gripped her hair and ripped her from behind the crate.  
Daimhin’s brow knit as she gripped the man’s wrist, tears still streaming down her cheeks. He laughed harshly as he looked over the young elf, gripping her jaw he forcefully turned her head side to side.  
“Not much to look at now, hopefully you will be worth something knife ear.” He growled low as he dragged her away from her hiding spot. “Got one more.” He called to another man sitting in front of a caged wagon.  
A few of the people were already locked inside, mostly women and a couple of the children. The door was unlocked and Daimhin had been shoved in, once she’d been disarmed. Collapsing against the bars Daimhin looked down to the floor of the cage, the screams of the clan had long been silenced; Replaced now only with the crackling fires and whimpers of the few survivors.

The journey from their settlement was long, or so it seemed…  
Days with little food and water, being left to sit in a cage…  
Tattered clothes were torn to tend to their wounds, the older women trying to reassure the younglings that everything was going to be okay. When their captors would stop to make camp, they’d occasionally pull out the women and take them to one of the tents. They’d only scream and plead for the first few times, only returning in the morning looking more beaten and lost. One night one of the few men who’d been captured tried to escape. While their captors were coming to take one of the women, he had sprung up going for the man’s blade. It had turned into a grappling match before their captor had pulled his sword free and ran it through the other. With the scuffle as a distraction, one of the other women took a few younglings and bolted.  
Daimhin watched as they were shot with arrows, slumping down in an instant. There was shouting and screaming as their kin were left where they lay. The women struggling, fighting to stay in the cage, the others trying to hold onto them. Daimhin hopped up and caught the wrist of one, trying to pull with all her strength.  
“Quit your struggling, we only want a bit of fun.” One growled as he punched the young elf in the face, her grip slipping, and she fell back onto the floor of the cage.  
Holding her face she cried, the pain from the strike and being so helpless making her feel sick.

The rest of the journey was spent in defeated silence, their captors only stopping briefly before reaching their destination. A large city in the distance, it was nothing like the people had ever seen before but where Daimhin might have felt wonder once, she’d only felt dread.  
Within the city walls there were buildings as high as the clouds, following up the hilly landscape, making the largest tower seem that of a mountain. New noises and smells overwhelmed the foreign elves. The wagon was pulled through the streets, many dwellers stopped to look at what was being brought to market this time. Reaching a stage set up within the market place the wagon had stopped, it only now dawned on Daimhin that most of the strange men who’d attacked their village were no longer in their company. The few who stayed with them began to settle into their space, a few wandering off and disappearing into the crowd. 

Hours had dragged on as few people came to speak with their captors, they would occasionally motion over toward Daimhin and her kin. After a few had visited and wandered off, another man approached their captors. They spoke in hushed tones before the two men approached the cage, opening the door the man grabbed one of the women. Knowing what would happen if they fought, the others ignored her pleas and struggles. The man had struck her before with a harsh yank, pulled her from the cage and shoved her to the other. Both men chuckled as she was inspected.  
“How much?” The man asked.  
“For that one? She’s worth seventy gold.” Their captor said with a smirk.  
“I’ll take her.” The man said as he dug into his pockets and pulled out a small pouch. 

After the first nearly every interaction with their captor had led to one of their own being taken away, the women going first and then the children. Daimhin sat in the far corner of the cage, her knees pulled to her chest as she watched her kin dwindle down. Soon a rather elegantly dressed man had approached the rough looking men.  
“How much for the girl?” He asked, directly to the point.  
The men turned to meet their visitor and a malicious smirk spread across one’s lips. “The girl you say?” He asked as he looked to the cage. “Who is asking?”  
“I am.” The man said clearly in no mood for games. “My name is Muirimon, I am steward to his Lordship from the house Nailio.” He said holding his head high.  
“Steward? Here for your master’s business or your own pleasure?” The larger man asked with a laugh as he nudged another.  
“My lord wishes to purchase one, now I ask again, how much for the girl?”

Daimhin pushed herself further into the corner, swallowing harshly as she listened to them.  
The men shared a glance before answering, “Two hundred gold.”  
“For a lowly woodland beast?” The man asked with a sideways glance.  
“A pretty young woman.” The brute hummed as he leaned back against the cage. “She’s young, that is a longer time your master will have use of her. Need to charge more and I am certain his lordship could afford it.” He shrugged as he twirled the key on a finger.  
Muirimon sneered at them as he produced a bag, he dropped it into the brute’s hand and turned his attention to the cage.

The other man was struggling to pull her out, she kicked and punched.  
“Enough!” He shouted and struck her.

“There will be no more damage done to his lordship’s property, he is paying for quality help.” Muirimon snapped at him. “Come along girl, you don’t want to spend any more time in their company.” He said in a stern voice.

“You heard him, off ya go.” The man struggling to get her out of the cage sneered and waved her off.  
Turning to the elven man she shifted a bit where she stood.  
“Now, or else I will leave you to them.” He threatened.  
Slowly Daimhin had stepped out of the cage and approached the well-dressed man. Grabbing her hands, he held her in place as the brute he’d bought her from cuffed her in heavy iron shackles. She tried to yank herself free, pleading in her mother tongue. The brute gave the man her chains and waved them off.  
“No more struggling child.” Muirimon growled as he yanked her along.

They walked through the crowds, passing a large colosseum as they approached the castle of house Nailio. She was taken through a side entrance and down to the lower floors. Pushing her into a small room, where a few other women and men stood.  
“Get her cleaned up and ready to begin work.” Muirimon ordered them before dropping her chains and turning to leave.  
“Yes sir,” the others nodded and watched as he left.

Daimhin was stripped of her tattered rags and forced into a tub of cold water. They threw cold water over her and washed her messy blonde hair. Shivering she didn’t fight against these people, for she knew she had no-where to go…  
Being pulled from the freezing cold water she was dried and given a simple dress to wear. Pulling on the tan dress Daimhin hugged herself, still shivering.  
“I’m sorry lass…” A voice came from behind her as her knee was kicked in.  
She was forced to kneel, and her arms were pinned behind her back as they made her lean forward. She struggled a bit and begged for them to let her go. Pulling her hair out of the way to expose her neck, gripping the wadded up, soaking tresses they held her still.  
“Don’t struggle… it will only make it worse.” One of the others said as they rummaged around for something.  
Staring down at the stone flooring beneath them, Daimhin panted waiting for whatever else was to come, she just wanted it over already…  
In an instant there was a searing pain on the back of her neck, she screamed in agony as she was held fast, unable to struggle against them. She didn’t know how long they held the iron to her skin, but the brand burned deep into her flesh and the pain was too much to bear. She fell limp in their hold, darkness enveloping her mind as she drifted away from the waking world and its horrors.


	2. An Ordinary Servant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Centuries passed since being captured and put to work as a house servant to the Lord Nailio, Daimhin finds herself assigned to a new set of duties. How will she fare treading through the wolf's den, would she resist the temptation of the Lord's champion fighter, or would she be devoured like so many other serving girls before her?

It had been over a century since Daimhin had begun to live out her days as a servant to house Nailo, tending to her duties. She would work in the kitchens, clearing the dining hall after her master’s meals and tidying the castle. Walking along the halls Daimhin was heading to the kitchen to begin helping with the preparations for breakfast. She had passed two servants scrubbing the floors in the hall, the two women were gossiping.  
“You were rather late coming from the barracks again last night.” One teased.  
The other blushed and smiled, “Of course I was. Do you think I can resist going down there and not paying him a visit?”  
“Judging by the way you never return on time; I’d say it’s obvious you can’t!” The first laughed.  
“You’re just jealous you haven’t had the chance.” The other huffed as she swatted her with a rag.  
“And I’m all the gladder I haven’t, I’d not want to share a bed with a beast like that.” The first retorted with a firm shake of her head.  
“Boring bitch.”   
Setting her scrubber down the first looked at her angrily, “It’s a wonder you aren’t on kitchen duty anymore, sneaking off to bed brutes like that.”

Continuing down the hall, Daimhin ignored them and walked into the chaos that is morning preparations. Tying her long blonde hair back Daimhin had gone to work tidying the dishes and wiping up the counters. The chefs were elbows deep in preparing the morning feast, bread was baking, and the air just smelled of the various herbs being used.

“There you are,” Tinesi said wiping her hands over her apron as she approached the blonde elf.  
“I know I am a little late,” Daimhin said as she washed the cookware.  
Tinesi sighed as she took hold of her shoulder, “Don’t make it a habit like Ildilyntra. You’ve been reassigned duties and you weren’t here on time.” She whispered into her ear.  
“What?” Daimhin asked, looking at the other woman.  
“I covered for you, this time.” She said in a hushed tone as she held up a finger. “I said you’d been sent out for some herb we needed. But you are now going to be tending to the gladiators in the barracks.”  
“Wasn’t Ildilyntra assigned to tend to the fighters?” Daimhin asked.  
“And spending every night in the champion’s bed.” Tinesi said with a roll of her eyes. “She’s late to her duties and wasn’t performing to the master’s standards.”  
Sighing Daimhin closed her eyes before asking, “Then I suppose at dinner tonight I will begin my new duties?”  
“Yes, don’t end up like the others either.” Tinesi warned before returning to her own tasks.

The day had slowly trudged on as Daimhin began her new duties, heading down to the barracks she worked on tidying the fighter’s living quarters. Sweeping out the dust they tracked in, wiping the tables and making their beds. After she had cleaned their quarters Daimhin had began to make her way back toward her master’s castle, she paused hearing the roar of cheers from the direction of the arena. Turning around she walked through the tunnel until she reached an entrance for the pit, peering through the gate she watched the bloody spectacle. Metal clashed as the fighters struck at each other, two of the lesser known brutes were fighting. Her green eyes were glued to the two men, one wielding an axe and shield the other a large spiked club.

Watching for a short while longer, Daimhin slowly backed away and turned to head back to the castle. Going straight for the kitchen she had gathered the food for her master’s fighters onto a small cart and made her way back down toward the barracks. The soft thumping of her shoes hitting the paved floor echoed down the tunnel, wheeling the small cart along she stopped at the end of the barracks. Knowing the spectacle had run late, she wasn’t expecting to run into any of the fighters. Tray by tray, she had dropped off their dinner in their empty rooms; That is until she reached the champion’s room.

Opening the door, she froze as her eyes fell on the toned back of the orc fighter, his green skin dimly lit by the lantern hanging off the wall. Her gaze fell from him briefly, noticing the pile of bloodied linen at his feet as he appeared to be tending to his fresh set of wounds. Quietly stepping in, she made her way to the table on the opposite end of the room, the orc still silently facing away from her. Setting the tray with his dinner down onto the wooden surface she drew a breath and glanced over her shoulder at him. She’d heard many things about the orc…  
He is a brute in the arena and many of the serving girls would come down to visit him. From what she could see…  
He isn’t monstrous. A chiseled jawline and shoulder length red hair…  
As he finishes wrapping his wounds, he runs a hand through his hair, “You can go now.” His voice pulls her from her thoughts. 

“O-Of course…” She stammers as she nervously wipes her hands over her apron. Grabbing the tray of dirtied dishes from his breakfast she must have turned too quickly, and the clay bowl fell shattering as it hit the ground. Quickly dropping to her knees, she had begun to pick up the shards.  
With a sneer he turns to look at her, “Clumsy for an elf.” His gaze is predatory, eyeing her like a wolf would a doe.   
As she scrambled to pick up the broken dish a bit of blonde had fallen into her face. “My apologies…” She muttered as she briefly glanced up, avoiding meeting his eyes. Rising to her feet she bowed her head as she had turned for the door.  
Shaking his head, he had taken two long strides and now stood between her and the door, blocking her path. “Upon reconsideration…” He trailed off as he openly eyed her form. “Perhaps you should stay awhile; Allow me to make sure you’ve not cut yourself.” He said in mock worry.  
Backing slightly as she kept her eyes downward, she protested, “I’d rather not disturb you any longer…” Her face had grown hot feeling the intensity of his stare.  
“Oh, come now, I don’t bite.” He cooed spreading his arms in a gesture of peace, but a wolfish grin had taken his lips and there is that predatory glint in his eyes. “Besides, they are used to maidens being…” He paused as he thought for a moment. “… delayed in my quarters.”  
Suddenly feeling trapped like a rabbit beneath the large maw of a predator, she glanced around the room nervously. “As I am aware…” She began and swallowed harshly, “… you’ve many admirers it seems.”  
A cocky smile lights up his face as he takes a bold step forward. “Do you wish to see what they admire so?” He asks arching a brow as he backs her towards his bed.   
Feeling the back of her leg hit the frame of his bed caused her to tense slightly. “I am sorry… but I must decline.” She quips as she easily side-steps him, much nimbler than she had been moments ago. Catching him off guard, his eyes had widened as her footwork was not that of a simple servant. Opening the door, she’d paused for a moment, “Rest well sir,” she said over her shoulder before walking out.  
“I will.” He smiles over his shoulder before turning his attention to the meal resting on the table; Sitting down he ate, the blonde elf on his mind.

Daimhin leaned against the wall just outside of the barracks, catching her breath and trying to calm her mind. “Your first night and already you’ve caught his interest.” She scolded herself. Leaning her head back she shivered at the thought, “But he is quite handsome… for an orc…” Her eyes snapped open and she shook her head, “Just do your duties…” She hissed as she pushed off the wall, setting the last of the dirtied dishes on the cart and began the trek back.

Over the next few weeks Daimhin would serve the gladiators' needs, taking their dirtied dishes as she dropped off their fresh meals. Servicing the rooms by sweeping, mopping, washing their clothes and linens, then making their beds. She spent nearly all day down in the barracks and thus had become quite familiar with a few of the fighters, though she’d avoid Rok’Thar when she could; Skirting around him.

This evening she was tidying up his living space last, the fighters had been kept occupied for a late spectacle and thus she assumed they would not be back before she finished. She had planned to clean their rooms and drop off their meals before any of them could return from the baths.  
Having already swept out the dust and airing out the room, she was making his bed with fresh linens. Leaning over as she tucked the sheets under the well-used mattress, her bangs slipped from behind her pointed ears and fell in her face. Sighing as she stood straight, she wiped the back of her hand over her forehead and brushed the blonde strands back, tucking them behind her ears once more. Wiping her hands with the front of her apron she turned as the door flew open and Rok’Thar entered.

“Oh, hello.” He smiles, his skin glistening with sweat from his performance. Dust and blood clung to his trousers and his silky looking red hair had been pulled back into a half ponytail.  
Trying to ignore the musk perforating off the fighter, Daimhin- greeted him. “Good evening sir, your dinner is waiting on the table.” Turning back to her task, she finished making his bed. “And there are fresh linens in your drawer.” She called over her shoulder.  
“And what if I hunger for something else?” He asks with a grin as he folds his arms across his chest.  
Daimhin turned around, unsurprised that he was once again blocking her exit.   
“Come now little one, join me awhile.” He chuckles lightly, the glint in his eye remaining but the tension in his body releases. “It is not like you’ve much else to be doing this evening.”  
“I beg to differ.” She said standing straight but keeping her eyes low. “I’ve still my other duties to attend.” One hand gripped the edge of her dirtied apron, scrunching a bit of her skirts in her fist. “And I am certain one of your admirers would be making a visit tonight…”  
Meeting her eyes, he runs a hand through his hair, “They’re not nearly as interesting.” He takes a moment to drink in her form once again. “Besides…” He trailed off as his gaze slowly rose to her face once more, his arms falling to his sides. “… we both know that you are curious.” He states matter of factly as he reaches behind him, closing the door as he steps further into the room. “Now are we going to continue to play this game or…” He pauses closing the distance between them and cupping her cheek.  
His hand is rough and calloused…  
She shivers at the contact and her eyes snap to meet his gaze. “… are we going to enjoy ourselves?” He asks in a low tone.  
Grip tightening on the fabric of her dress, she struggled to find her voice. “Not as interesting because you’ve already tasted them?” She asks, turning her head from him and once again nimbly skirting around him toward the door.   
Ready for her this time, Rok’Thar had thrown out an arm, easily catching her by the waist. His rough hands gripped her firmly, keeping her in place. Turning slightly in his hold she gazed back at him, large wide eyes wandering his rough features nervously. Leaning down closer to her, hot breath brushing against her neck as he spoke, “Besides your gaze gives you away.” Tusks scraping against her skin ever so lightly. “You are curious.”   
A tingle raced down her spine, causing her to arch slightly in his hold. He was right, she knew that, but the way he’d said it…  
It sounded like a revelation. Biting back a whimper she pushed a hand against his chest. “I-I am not…” She argued, but her voice cracked slightly at the lie.  
His rough hand slid down the curve of her back making her whimper again, a shiver racking her frame as he grazed over a particularly sensitive spot. Like examining a fresh fruit at market, his rough fingers squeezed her plump rear. “No?” His husky voice rumbling in his chest. “Your will is admirable little one.”  
“P-Please…” She pleaded as her hand pushed against his chest, her nails pushing into his rough skin.  
With a sigh he leans back, “Very well.” His hands still gripping her waist firmly as he spoke, “If you wish to go…” his fingers dragged along her hips torturously. “…I won’t hold you.” He finishes raising his hands in defeat.   
Peeling away from him with weak knees, she staggered toward the door, “I-I have to go…” She said as she bolted from the room, letting the door slam as she raced down the tunnel.  
Chuckling at her panic, he watches as she scurries out of the room. “Soon enough,” he mumbles as he disrobed, brazenly leaving his quarters to the shared baths to wash the days grime from himself.

The next few nights Daimhin was restless…  
She hated the way he’d claw his way into her thoughts, as she laid in bed feeling his rough hands caressing her waist, the way he roughly gripped her rump, the tingle of his tusks scraping against her neck…

Slamming the tray down onto the table, emerald eyes glaring at the covered meal, cheeks aflame from those invading thoughts. Huffing she shook her head and anxiously wiped her hands over her apron before going about and tidying up his quarters as usual. Standing in the doorway Rok’Thar watches the young elf go about her cleaning, his amber eyes burning with intensity. Turning to grab something else Daimhin stopped as her gaze met his. Drawing a breath, she allowed her eyes to take in his form, sweat from his usual sparring made his green skin glisten in the dim light, dampened tunic clinging to his chiseled torso as he leaned against the doorframe. Standing in silence she cannot find her words, though she is certain that her gaze confessed to him.

Stepping into the room he closes the door behind him, “So we meet again, little one.” Holding her stare he stalks toward her, she remained still this time. “Your curiosity got the better of you.” He states rather than asks as he now towers over her.  
Her green stare glued to him with surrender, though her frame tenses slightly…   
Perhaps out of instinct like all worn down prey. “I-It has…” She swallowed nervously as she took a step back, her eyes falling to the floor.   
In a quick motion he pulled her into his arms, holding her against his frame, his large hand bracing her lower back and his other tipping her back with surprising kindness as their eyes met once more. She had let out a gasp as she was swept up into his arms, her gaze locked with his, her hands gripping his bicep and shoulder. As if breaking from a trance he suddenly threw her back onto the bed with an effortless push. “Now you will learn how “savage” I am, little elf.” He spoke in a firmer voice as he stripped out of his tunic and tossed it aside.  
Pushing herself to her elbows she watched him as he stalked toward the bed, “Savage?” She parroted with a thick swallow. Kicking her shoes off, she brushed them over the side of the bed, and she reached behind her, pulling the thin leather strip she tied her hair back with free. Her golden tresses now released from the ponytail it had been trapped in, the tips of her pointed ears poked from beneath the thick curtain of hair.  
“You haven’t heard?” He asks incredulously. “Your kind finds mine “savage” and even “bestial”.” He muses as he climbed onto the edge of the bed. Even kneeling, the orc dwarfed the elf.   
Looking up at him, her eyes wandered his features slowly, allowing those words to sink in and swallowing thickly as the idea of what that had meant fogged her mind. Sitting up she undid her apron and the ties of her dress, reaching down she tugged her skirts up.  
With a smirk he drops his trousers leaving little doubt to the validity of the rumors the maids had been whispering.   
“I can only imagine why the masters would call you beastly…” She trailed off as she admired his form, “… it’s as if it has a life of its own…” She continued in a nervous awe.  
Grabbing her dress, he ripped away the modest covering and tossed it behind him. “You will soon find out little elf.” He growled as he pushed her back down and crawled over her, his musk filling the air. Pressing her thighs together she swallowed thickly, wincing as he roughly pawed at her breast. “Open your legs, elf.” He snarls as his course fingers scrape her tender flesh. “Or do you want me to make you?”  
Her brow knit with his rough grabbing, but she slowly did as she was told. Her legs had barely parted, leaving no room for him to access what he desired. Gripping a thigh with his free hand he forced them open, revealing the unsullied treasure within. “There, spread like a proper elven slut.” He says with a chuckle as he moves rest between her milky thighs.  
“Slut?” She’d heard some men toss that word around from time to time but didn’t understand it’s meaning.  
Her naivety takes him aback briefly as her innocence flips a switch deep within him, he will own her. “There is a long night ahead if you wish to become my slut little one.” He growls.  
“Y-yours?” She asks as a small weight settled in the pit of her stomach as if she sensed danger, like anticipating a dire wolf to lunge from the shadows…


	3. Beastly Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caving to temptation, a beast has been stirred in Daimhin. This little woodland beast has some fangs, will the champion continue to stoke the fire he's set in her forest?

Rolling off her, Rok’Thar settles onto his back staring up at the dark ceiling. “Get your things and go elf.”  
Fighting to catch her breath, Daimhin pushes herself up out of bed, her limbs trembling. Collecting her things, she pulled on her dress at the very least, carrying her under gown, apron and shoes as she left his room quietly. Walking through the tunnel, the cold stonework floor scraped her bare feet as she headed back to the servant’s quarters of her master’s castle. The wooden door creaked as she pushed it open just enough to slip inside, turning around she carefully pushed the door shut. Closing her eyes, she drew a breath as she let the warmth of the space chase the cold from her sore frame. Slowly she made her way to her bunk, dropping her under gown and apron in a small basket beside her bed. Kicking her shoes beneath her bed, she plopped onto her blankets and hugged her pillow close. 

Over the next few days a few of the other servants were buzzing with talk, Daimhin hadn’t paid their gossip any mind as she had gone about preparing to tend to her usual duties. As she started to gather the trays of breakfast for the gladiators, she was so focused she hadn’t noticed Tinesi storming up to her side.  
“What did you do?” The older high elven woman asked with a hiss.  
Hearing her friend with such a hostile tone Daimhin turned to her confused, “What do you mean? I haven’t done anything…”  
“Then why were you reassigned?” She demanded as she crossed her arms.  
“I have?” She asked, feeling her stomach sinking.  
“Aye lass, you’ve been taken off the fighter’s duties. I told you not to become like the others! I didn’t want to believe the rumors; You didn’t seem the type…” Tinesi sighed in disappointment.   
“What is that supposed to mean?” Daimhin questioned as she abandoned the trays.  
“You know damn well what that is supposed to mean. You became another one of the champion’s whores and were reassigned!” Tinesi snapped.  
Balling her fist Daimhin felt her blood boiling, but at the same time…   
Tinesi was right. She succumbed to a weakness and had now been cast aside like the others before her. “What is my new set of duties?” She asked meekly as her gaze fell downward.  
“The stables for starters, the rightful place of a harlot like you.” Tinesi rolled her eyes as she pushed passed her to take over the fighter’s meals.

The days slowly trudged along as Daimhin familiarized herself with her new duties, she heard a new maid had been assigned to the fighters and she fought back the nauseous feeling that caused her. Laying in her bunk at night, looking out the small window she’d think about sneaking off, her soreness however kept her from doing so. 

After she finished tending to the stables, Daimhin had gone about as if she was preparing to head for bed. In the servant’s quarters a few other girls were settling into their beds, giggling amongst themselves as they gossiped and bantered with one another. Resting on her side, eyes closed Daimhin listened to the hiss of the fire as it had been extinguished and counted the times the embers popped.  
One…Two…Three…Four…  
Five…  
Time stretched further with each pop until she could no longer stay still…  
Rising out of bed as quietly as she could, Daimhin silently snuck out. Closing the door carefully, she turned on her heel and made her way toward the barracks. Listening to somber night she walked down into the tunnel, passing the shared baths.  
The crude comments and catcalling from the fighter’s had caught Daimhin’s attention. Echoing off the stone walls were the pleas and cries of some of the unlucky maids. Freezing in place as she listened briefly, her eyes snapped shut and she covered her pointed ears. Their pleas tugged at memories she wished to forget, gritting her teeth, her pace had sped up, wanting to pass the bathes and the pit settling in her stomach again…  
Daimhin was stopped suddenly as a large presence pulled her back into an embrace, a foreign scent stung her thin nose as another of the orc fighters held her captive. Drunkenly, his hand began to explore the small elf, fondling her roughly.  
Twisting out of his hold, instinctually she threw a punch into his throat; The brute stumbles back but keeps a firm grip on her arm. Even on the wet stonework, her footing is more stable than a normal servant. Cursing in elvish, she yells for him to let her go.  
Recovering slightly from his surprise, the orc snarls, “Dagger eared bitch!” Raising a hand to strike her, flinching, she had braced for the strike. Another large hand lashed out, stopping him. Rok’Thar had stepped from seemingly nowhere, gripping the other orc’s wrist. “Getting bested by me in the sparring ring not enough Fernik?” He asked, twisting his arm painfully. “An elven serving girl needs to teach you a lesson too?” He says mockingly as he shoves him to the ground. The orc unable to keep his footing on the slippery ground, releases her arm as he slams harshly on his back. Pulling her now freed arm to her chest she looks down, green eyes glued to the stonework. Should she thank him?  
The few warriors watching the spectacle began to laugh and jest about the orc now laying on the ground.  
“Damn… I thought I told them to take you off the fighter’s duties,” He says under his breath, turning his head as he runs a hand through his hair.  
She tenses slightly, her eyes snapping to him as she takes a step back. He what? Her green eyes search him briefly before she sighs quietly. Of-course he did…  
After all, he’d already gotten what he wanted.  
“But I suppose you are the kind to do as you wish.” His exasperation leaves him as a slight smirk takes his expression.  
She looked at him confused, but that look seemingly of slight approval… made her chest swell. “I am off the fighter’s duties; I had come down here for other reasons…” She trailed off as her gaze turned toward down the hall, her hands fidgeting with the back of her skirts.  
“Oh?” He asks, raising a brow and stepping toward her. “And what might that be, elf?” He asks curtly, his annoyance at her meddling returning.  
Gripping the fabric of her dress she swallowed, “I-I have been feeling rather…” She paused as her eyes slowly returned to the ground. “… restless. My intent was to release some tension.” She answered as her gaze met him briefly.  
Stepping closer, his still damp frame easily towering over her, the other fighters now murmuring to each other, the gossip starting again. 

“Back to your racks,” He ordered, his eyes never leaving the elven woman. “Lest you want to do some more sparring.” He threatened making the other fighters move along. The maids had long gathered their things and now fled the bathes, naked and wet as they rushed back down the tunnel.  
Slowly her gaze rose to meet his, wandering his frame from his feet upward, taking in each scar that stretched across his muscles. With a single finger he tilts her chin up bringing her eyes to his, “Oh? How did you plan to do that little one?” His tone bordering on mocking as he teases her.  
Not wanting to admit why she’d been sneaking out, she quips back softly as she holds his gaze, “A girl must have her secrets. Though if rumor is to be believed…” She trailed off as she released her skirts, the tension leaving her frame. “It’d have been by seeking you out.”  
“And why would a little elf be looking for a great big beast like me?” He asks with a chuckle as he begins to circle her, sizing her up.  
“I have survived our first encounter, why wouldn’t I be looking for you once more?” She asked as she stood straight, feeling his eyes all over her. Speaking in elvish she added, “My kin chase beasts, we enjoy the thrill of danger.”  
With a sneer he grabs a fist full of her hair, with his rough handling most of it had fallen from the loose ponytail it had been tied back in. “Be careful which beasts you hunt, lest you become the hunted.” He growls in fluent elvish as he roughly dragged her into the baths. With a malicious smirk he pushes her against the nearby wall, his hand releasing the wad of blonde to rip open the back of her dress and yanks the front down. His amber eyes are met with countless scars from lashings, all varying sizes staining her pale flesh. He takes pause for only a moment before his attention is turned to her skirts, ripping them up out of the way he kicks her legs apart. “I needed a good fuck,” He growls into her ear as he presses against her back, pinning her to the wall. Her hands pressing against the cold wall, she bows her head breathing heavily as she readies herself, not going to try and deny him.

It was over much quicker this time, Daimhin pressed against the wall, panting as her nails dug into some of the crumbling stonework. He rested against her for a long beat, his breathing strained and hot against the skin of her shoulder. Stepping away, he readjusted himself and watched as she fell to her knees. Trembling, her legs felt too weak to continue to support her for the time being. “Feel free to seek me out again, the next time you are feeling restless.” He said looking down at her. Turning around, the padding of his bare feet over the stonework announced his departure. Trying to catch her breath Daimhin rested there a short while longer before disrobing and bathing for longer than she’d normally allow herself.

The next day was a blur, it didn’t trudge along slowly like most others. As she shoveled out the stalls, her mind had drifted, the soreness had dulled and was only a slight annoyance now. Finishing her duties, Daimhin had made her way back to the servant’s quarters. Passing the lush garden, brimming with herbs and various magical flora, she paused and drew a deep breath. There was only one plant that she ever cared for in the near forest her master owned, a simple root herb, the only scent she recognized from her younger days…  
With a sigh she had continued, her boots kicking a few pebbles as she walked. Heading inside she felt her stomach growl as the smell of stew had tickled her nose. Walking over to the serving pot she poured herself a bowl and sat on her own, tuning out the gossip of the other maids as she ate. Her mind kept returning to Rok’Thar…   
Why, she couldn’t quite answer… but something about him called to her. Or something inside of her, pushed her to him…  
Shaking her head to free herself from these thoughts, she finished eating and cleaned up her dishes before going to get ready for bed. Once again, she lay there, staring through the small window up at the starry sky, unable to just close her eyes and succumb to dreaming. Slowly sitting up she looked around the room, every bed was occupied by someone fast asleep…   
The fire in the small hearth had long been dowsed and if it were not a clear night, they’d be plunged in pitch darkness. The bed creaked ever so quietly as she pushed herself out of bed, slipping out of the under gown, Daimhin quietly rummaged through the drawer of the end stand beside her bed. Pulling out rugged looking tunic and trousers, she quickly pulled them on before grabbing her boots. Tiptoeing through the shared quarters barefooted, Daimhin made her way out, carefully opening the door just enough to slip out and guiding it shut. Once outside she dropped her boots and slipped them on, turning on her heel she hurriedly made her way down through the tunnels.

Reaching the training grounds, Daimhin had stepped out onto the dirt bathed in moonlight. Collecting her long hair in her hands she quickly wrapped it up into a tight, yet messy bun, to keep it from her face. Making her way toward the equipment shed, she stopped just a few feet short and knelt, her fingers tracing along the stone bricks until she had found what she was looking for. Pulling a larger brick loose she opened her secret hideaway, reaching into the darkness, her slender fingers carefully wrapped around what she was looking for. Pulling out a bundle wrapped in worn, filthy fabric, Daimhin had unwrapped a short bow and quiver. Slowly rising to her feet, she slung the quiver over her shoulder and dusted off her bow, a smile slowly spreading across her lips. “I have missed you too.” She whispered to her weapon before she approached the archer’s range. Carefully, she restrung her bow, the light wood tensing as it was restrained into its aggressive stance. Drawing an arrow and nocking it back she had taken aim at the line of targets. 

Closing her eyes, she paused a moment as she’d felt the evening breeze brush by her frame. Adjusting her stance her eyes slowly opened before releasing her arrow, watching as it hit its mark. Nocking back another arrow, she took aim and again released. The sound of each arrow piercing the wooden targets calling out the rage building inside of her. Slowly walking down the line, she fired arrow after arrow, her emerald glare hardening as she approached the line of dummies shaped like men. Taking aim, she fired at each vital point in the body, the arrows in her quiver quickly dwindling. A slow clapping had suddenly caught her attention and she whirled around to see who had caught her.

There, leaning against the post set up for another dummy, is Rok’Thar. “Pretty good for a serving girl.” He praises as he straightens up and approaches her. “The form could use some work…” He says circling her, eyes wandering her frame. Reaching out he grabs her arm, his demeanor clearly different than their previous meetings.   
Swallowing, she made no attempt to fight him as he guided her arm into a firmer position. “What are you doing?”  
Using his foot, he guided her into a straighter stance, his other hand bracing her middle back, “Stand up taller and tighten your middle when you aim.” He instructed.

Drawing another arrow, she did as she was told, slowly releasing her breath she fired her arrow and it struck the dummy straight in the chest. The force causing it to rattle slightly.  
“Again.” He commanded.

She nocked back another arrow, again as the way he’d instructed she straightened her back and tightened her middle. The arrow flew piercing into the dummy’s shoulder. Turning his head to look at the elven girl, Rok’Thar’s amber eyes fell over her briefly. She avoided meeting his gaze, keeping her eyes forward as she gripped her bow tightly. His hands released her frame and he took a step back.

“Did I say we were done? Go again.” He says snapping his fingers.

Nocking back her last arrow, Daimhin took aim, glaring down the dummy as the rage in the pit of her stomach swirled. Her blood boiled at the situation, she’d been caught and surely if Muirimon found out she was due for another lashing…  
Would he tell anyone? He gave her some instruction…

“What are you waiting for? I said, again.” He snaps.

Releasing the arrow, she watched as it pierced right through the arrow in the center of the dummy’s chest. Rok’Thar rubbed his chin as he looked around, taking in the arrows sticking out of various targets and then his eyes slowly returned to her. It was clear now; She isn’t an ordinary serving girl…  
Tilting his head, Rok’Thar concluded that she had potential...

“If we are going to do this, little one…” He had started.  
“Do what?” Daimhin asked, turning to look at him.  
Rok’Thar eyed her for a moment and then continued, “If I am going to train you, then our dynamic will be exclusively that of a mentor and pupil.”  
“Train me?” She asked as her brow knitted. “What would a serving girl need proper training for?”  
“Being a servant is irrelevant, if you have talent then you are obligated to hone it.” He said waving off her question, his amber eyes burning intensely. “Retrieve your arrows, we will continue for a while yet.” He said, turning his attention back to the line of targets.  
Standing still, Daimhin watched him in confusion for a moment before his rough, commanding voice startled her from her trance. “Hurry up, you are burning moonlight.” He snaps.

Jumping slightly, she had turned and approached the line of targets, collecting her arrows. Rok’Thar folded his arms across his chest as he watched her, his lips stretched in a flat line as he thought. Things were going to get very interesting, it seemed.   
Once Daimhin had collected all her arrows, she stood in front of the range again, Rok’Thar at her side. He had begun to give her instruction, watching her as she again took aim.


End file.
